Sinful Make Believe
by marsupialgroove
Summary: Sometimes it's best to live and play in the world of make believe, where promises are easier believed than kept. AuronRikku. Oneshot.


**Sinful Make-Believe**

_I do not ow__n the rights to Final Fantasy X or Square Enix. This is a work of fiction. Please enjoy._

--

_What have you done?_

Another lie, another sin; you are a disgusting man. She will not believe your reality when it comes because you will forever go on playing make-believe like she's really just another doll - another puppet. Maybe it'll go back to your hand accidentally brushing hers as you walk in comfortable silence, side by side.

Maybe she'll blush like the lovely young woman she is.

She's so fragile, you claim, so young… so _breakable_. Of course, when you were fifteen years old you were already a Monk for Bevelle – you had already bloodied your hands, fought for your country and seen your family and home murdered. That's why you became a Guardian, wasn't it? So that you could protect the ones you loved. Why, by the time you were fifteen you had fought a thousand battles – you had seen everything, known everyone and had been hurt far more than anyone else.

And what of the young woman?

She is fifteen, irresponsible, spontaneous, sticky and always, always in your face. She loves beyond pain of death or fear of trying; she hopes beyond tears and sorrow and grief. But mostly, she tries so hard to be everyone's sunshine. She tries so hard to be beautiful in their eyes – is she beautiful to you, old man? Could someone so beautiful possibly hold any meaning to you?

She is fragile. She is fifteen. She is irresponsible, spontaneous, sticky and always, always charming.

Her Home was destroyed before her eyes; friends, family and others were murdered before her eyes as well – they were murdered, and even though she tried to save them they died. She didn't run from the murderers of her Home as you did when you were young. She fought. She chose to be strong, and she chose not to be breakable.

Were you ever so strong?

All of her life has led up to this pilgrimage – it was inevitable. She would invariably end up guiding her cousin to her death in some way. She tried so hard to stop Yuna, and she's still trying (oh, how she tries!). Somewhere deep down she knows that she won't succeed, and maybe somewhere deep down she also knows that Yuna won't ever give up. But she keeps trying. She never gives up; she is relentless, forever in your face – forever in Yuna's way.

Would you have been so persistent?

You know the answer. You weren't. That's why Braska died, isn't it? It was your fault, after all. You weren't strong enough. Maybe this _girl_ – no, that's not it… maybe this _young woman _(yes, that seems right) is stronger than you were (and is perhaps stronger than you are right now).

She steals. She is a thief (in more ways than one), she is cunning, she is wily, and she is sly. She is alive.

Her heart is so real, and so unbearably alive. She is more than you ever were, and could ever hope to be. It pains you, knowing that you have been bested by Rikku. It pains you that she isn't even aware of how much she affects you, and you hate her for this pain sometimes.

You're not sure whether you wish you were alive, or if you wish she was dead.

It's that infernal smile of hers. It reminds you of that shiver of anticipation before a battle; it reminds you of the thrill you once felt as you fought for Yevon and hope and the future. Her smile is that of a child who has not known the world, and it is reminiscent of your youth and your hope and Braska and Jecht and everything that was good in the world.

She smiles because she knows no other way.

You, you are the bearer of one thousand burdens, still standing strong. You are all time halted and flowing, continuing forever and never slowing. You are lost when you are with her, and you are wandering without her; you are the man who would weep for the poet's reality, not his pretty stories.

You will be the death of her, for you are so dark, wretched and wrong.

You are the tin soldier, and she is the ballerina. You are separate, different and both so alike in your ailments. Perhaps you will be united in your misfortune like the tin soldier and the ballerina as you fall into the licking flames of fate, bound together at last.

_What have you done?_

You have done enough, you realize. You have done enough. As long as she does not halt the pilgrimage, all is well. You have never had problems with sacrificing lives and hearts in the past – the future is at stake now! What is one more heart to add to the pile?

Perhaps she won't remember your promise. She is only fifteen, after all. Surely she has been lied to before. For right now, you decide, you will return to the pilgrimage and the children that you filled with lies and endless promises.

_Back to your sinful make-believe._

--

She feels someone watching her, though she can't quite put her finger on it. It's a man, she knows, because she can see Lulu and Yuna sleeping not twelve feet away from her. Maybe she's dreaming – this sort of dream has happened before. She dreams that someone is watching her, but he never comes near her. Only watches her quietly, before leaving some time later. She never, ever looks up to see who it is that's watching her.

This time, for whatever reason, she looks up. Auron's on watch tonight and he's watching her. Strange, she thinks. He looks surprised that I'm awake. After a moment's hesitation, she hears him whisper in that ever-weary tone that only he can achieve.

"Go back to sleep, Rikku. You are on watch tomorrow night. Rest well."

She sighs, but does as she's told. Forever passes quickly, she finds, when she can't sleep.

She rolls onto her side and watches the red-clad man for some time. He isn't watching her any more, but rather he is gazing into the heavens. They remain there for a while, content to simply be silent and forever alone together.

"You've been watching me a lot." She comments offhandedly. She is clever, and thieving and sly – nothing is ever said offhandedly.

_Nothing is ever felt offhandedly._

Auron's gaze remains fixed in the sky.

"Yes." He replies, voice gruff.

"Any reason?" she inquires, unable to read his answer.

He finally tears his eyes off the sky and looks at her. His eyes, even in the moonlight, reveal very little. He looks her over, and sighs.

"Thinking about the pilgrimage?" Asks Rikku, who is suddenly shy and very tired.

Auron smiles softly, and almost laughs – Rikku doesn't know why.

"Yes," he replies softly. "It seems these days I think of little else." And again, he laughs.

They are quiet for another few minutes. Rikku likes it when he laughs. It reminds her of Home when she was young, and when everything was so clear to her. These days, she finds, she understands so very little.

"Auron?" Rikku asks softly. He doesn't reply; instead he attempts to give her a simple, fleeting glance, but something is amiss. His eye lingers, revealing more in an instant than both his eyes had his entire lifetime.

Rikku sits up in her bedroll, and she feels irreversibly and overwhelmingly fifteen; she is irresponsible, spontaneous, sticky and always, always in love.

"You'll be there, right?"

_You'll be there for Rikku, she whispers to the sky and everything in the world, except to the man who stands before her._

Auron looks at her, and sees a fifteen year old. She is awkward, irresponsible, spontaneous, sticky, and always, always and forever alive.

So he lies to her.

"I will be there, Rikku."

_What has he done?_

_--_

End.

_Well, started off Auron's POV. The last part is what happened before, and the beginning is Auron regretting __his promise. This is un-beta-ed. Any errors are most likely mine, and if you find any please let me know! _

_Comments and criticism are welcomed. - oi_


End file.
